


Voicemail

by LindsayIsTheCraic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Kabby AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindsayIsTheCraic/pseuds/LindsayIsTheCraic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello, this is Marcus Kane. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message along with your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you, may we meet again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January 23

_"Hello, this is Abby Griffin. Sorry I missed your call, but if you leave me a message and your name I'll try my best to get back to you as soon as possible. If it's work related, please try contacting my work number. Thank you!"_

_**BEEP** _

Marcus chuckled as he put his right blinker on, shifting lanes. "Abby Griffin? How many times have I told you that you need a new voicemail greeting?"

His left hand on the wheel of the car he was driving shifted as he flicked his blinker off. In the dim lighting of the streetlights, a silver band on his ring finger glistened. 

"I guess it isn't fair to say that when I still haven't changed your contact name either. Abigail Kane has a nice ring to it though, doesn't it?"

The low hum of a car speeding past his shifted his attention to the road in front of him rather than the phone in his hand. He watched as the same car skidded a few feet then straightened out.

"We've been married nine years, almost ten, and we still haven't changed the small things such as a voicemail greeting and a contact name. It's not that big of a deal, but you know how much I love finding something to bug you about."

Snow fell at a good pace around the car as Marcus continued home for the night. It was nearing ten at night and the sky was pitch black.

"Anyways, I'm calling you to let you know I'll obviously be home a bit later than usual. Work at the office got busy with a new case on a carjacker that came in at the last minute. Plus, the roads are terrible tonight so I'm taking my time."

He slowed to a stop at a red light, the snow falling heavier and faster. He chuckled a little. "Then I really shouldn't be talking on the phone either then, should I?"

The light turned green and he looked both ways at the intersection before slowly going forward again. His tires spun in place for a second before the car began moving.

"I won't be much longer. I just wanted to tell you that so you're not wondering where I am."

He came up to a four-way stop, his tires crunching to a stop in the snow. He looked all ways before going. His back tires spun and the back end of car swerved to the side. He straightened out his car before proceeding forward.

"You're probably in bed already due to your long day at the hospital, but I figured I'd give your cell a try."

He was heading south on the side streets now. Going down the road, stop signs lined the streets going east and west but not on the north and south directed streets. Other cars stopped for him as he slowly made his way down the street to his house.

"Obviously, you didn't answer. If you get this before I get back home, I'll see you in a few. I love you, may we me-"

Screeching tires cut off his voice. White headlights blinded his vision as his head jerked toward the sudden noise. The lights got brighter as they got closer; the screeching tires got deafening as the car slid towards his. 

The sound of metal crunching and glass shattering overtook the screech of tires. White flashes of light in correlation with pain overtook the bright headlights.

Hot pain. It was everywhere but nowhere at the same time.  

It all blurred together. White flecks, snow, stood out against a stark black background. They fell on his bruised skin. He didn't feel a single one; he was numb.

Soon, the sound of metal crunching, glass shattering, and screeching tires; the sight of headlights, white flashes, and snow; and the pain faded into nothing.

**_CALL ENDED_ **


	2. January 24

_"Hello, this is Marcus Kane. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message along with your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you, may we meet again."_

**_BEEP_ **

Silence.

The phone in her hand was shaking. Her hands were shaking; she was shaking.

Silence.

The sun peeked out from behind her bedroom curtains. The clock on the wall ticked as the time neared six in the morning. The sunlight that leaked through hit the hand holding the phone where a silver band on her ring finger glistened.

Silence.

In her other hand she held a small picture frame. Inside laid a family photo of six smiling faces. It had been taken last July. It also shook in her hand.

Silence.

Her eyes were focused on the picture; more importantly, on one specific person. A tear dropped onto the frame, landing on the man she was staring at. More tears followed, dropping in different areas on the frame.

Silence.

Her grip on the frame and the phone tightened as she closed her eyes. The tears flowed more steadily as a sob started to wreck its way through her body. More tears slid down her cheeks and glistened as they continued to fall on the frame. Her body shook more violently each time the clocked ticked.

Silence.

She sat like that for a while: silently crying, clutching the picture frame and the phone in her shaking hands, and body trembling. She seemed to forget she was on the phone. Bringing the phone away from her ear, she stared at the screen.

Silence.

A single name was written across the screen with a timer counting up the seconds ticking by, recording the silence. Seeing the name made her heart clench and it got harder for her to breathe. Her hands began to shake more.

Silence.

Slowly, she set the picture frame down on the bed. Looking behind her, she saw the other side of the bed which was still neatly made. There were no indents in the mattress or pillow, no crinkles in the sheets; but more importantly, there was no one sleeping in the space.

Silence.

The scene in front of her brought fresh tears to her eyes. Cradling the phone to her chest now, she slowly stood up. On shaky legs, she made her way over to the window. Moving the curtains to the side, sunlight poured into the room.

Silence.

She can almost hear his voice, hoarse and gruff from sleep, tell her, “Abby, dear, it’s too early. Some of us don’t have the early shift.”

He always joked about the sunlight streaming in his eyes from when she would pull the curtains open every morning. She expected the response to come automatically; it was routine.

Silence.

No response came. A small sob escaped her lips as she broke down into more tears. Slowly, pulling the phone from her chest, her eyes registered on the name of the man who should have said his routine line a few seconds ago.

That’s what it was. It _was_ a routine, now it’s a memory.

**_CALL ENDED_ **


	3. January 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: PLEASE! make sure you are paying attention to the chapter titles aka the dates of the voicemails. They will be referenced throughout the story and it gives the story its timeline. Thanks ! :)

_"Hello, this is Marcus Kane. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message along with your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you, may we meet again."_

**_BEEP_ **

Silence. Abby didn’t know what to say.

She sat on her bed, slipping her heels off with her feet. Her feet ached from standing all day for the past two days. Her body ached as well. Her eyes were red, tired, and puffy from crying. No matter how much she cried, her body still shook and got chills. She felt empty.

The phone was placed firmly on her ear as if waiting for his voice to say, “Hello gorgeous.”

She knew better. All she was answered with was silence, deafening silence.

Outside, the sun was setting as fresh snow began to fall. The snow from five days before had halted in its passage as if guessing the weather needed to permit to today’s activities. Now, the storm continued.

The image was fresh in her mind: the spot where Marcus now laid being covered lightly by snow.

When she finally spoke, her voice was raw. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” was all she could get out before tears sprung to her eyes and she broke down into a sob.

The sound of her sobs echoed into the silent room. She felt as if the tears never stopped; she felt as if the pain wouldn’t stop. She felt empty. All that was left behind after January 23 were the shreds of her heart that was torn apart.

“What _do_ I do?”

Her voice was raw from crying for hours at the service and then for hours at night. Restless naps during the night didn’t help the circumstances. Every time she fell asleep, his face would appear. If it wasn’t his face, it was voice. If it wasn’t his voice, it was something that resembled him.

A shaky breath escaped her as a shaky hand ran itself through her hair that curtained around her face. “It doesn’t feel real.”

Lifting her head, she looked to the bedroom door. It was closed. She barely whispered, “I keep expecting you to walk through the door.” A second of silence passed before she sobbed out a half-hearted laugh. “But you’re not going to.”

Another heart-wrenching sob escaped her as she bit into her knuckles. She whispered, more to the air than into the phone, “You’re not coming home.”

She took a slow glance around the room. The room was left the exact same way it had been by Marcus the morning of January 23. His glass of water he kept by his bedside was still half full. His novel he read laid beside it, the bookmark sticking out. His reading glasses laid on top of the novel.

“There’s so much I want to tell you--do with you, but that isn’t an option now.”

Panic began to rise in her as the reality of that statement began to settle in. She scrambled for words as memories flashed before her eyes: their last kiss, their last hug, their last contact, their last “I love you”, and much more.

“If I had known this was going to happen, things would have been different. I would’ve gotten up even earlier that morning to make you breakfast. Pancakes with strawberries on top with butter. I would’ve made your coffee just the way you like it: black with a little sugar.”

Abby was standing now, removing her black dress that she had worn for the burial. As she pulled the drawers to their conjoined dresser open, her eyes landed a specific sweater. “I would’ve asked you to wear that forest green sweater that you know I love.” She picked the same sweater up and slipped it over her tiny frame. It easily went to mid-thigh. It felt like him.

Cuddling into it, she climbed into the only side of the bed that wasn’t made. Hers had been made the morning of January 24 and hadn’t been touched since. Laying on his side of the bed, she curled into the sheets, her head resting against his pillow. It smelled distinctively of him.

“I would have requested you take the day off work so we could have a day for the two of us.” A sad smile graced her tear-streaked face. “Knowing you, you would’ve said something about the greater good needing your assistance and that you couldn’t take it off.”

She fiddled with the end of the sleeves of his sweater. “I would’ve kissed you goodbye, just like I do every morning. It wouldn’t have been a small peck. I would’ve poured the ten years of our marriage and all the love I have for you into that kiss.”

She didn’t notice the fresh tears running down her cheeks. She didn’t notice the chills that traveled throughout her body despite wearing a sweater and cuddling into heavy sheets. She didn’t notice how the hand holding the phone began to slightly shake. She choked out in between a sob, “I would’ve done everything I could have to make it better, more special. _Anything_.”

After her sob quieted down, silence filled the room. The clock on the wall ticked as the time neared nine at night. Usually around this time Marcus was in bed reading his novel if he didn’t get held up at work. Soon after he would start reading, hushed snores would slowly begin to fill the room as he fell asleep. Now, the only noise was the occasional sniffle coming from Abby.

Pulling the phone from her ear and looking to the timer, she realized she had been on voicemail for about ten minutes already. She thought back to everything she had just said and felt a little flustered. Marcus had always told her that she could ramble on for hours when she got emotional.

She switched her attention out the window as the snow continued to fall at a slow pace. It seemed as the whole world had slowed down. She felt as her world had halted for the past four days and was slowly starting to move again. She wasn’t so sure if she was ready for life to continue again.

The feel of the rough wool from _his_ sweater tickled her skin. The smell of _him_ from his pillow filled her senses. The sight of _his_ reading glasses revived an old memory of her teasing him when he first bought them. The sight of _his_ mug that held the water brought back memories of when she and Clarke bought it for him. It felt like home.

And she wasn’t ready to let it go.

She stared at his name on her phone before whispering, “I can’t say goodbye yet.”

**_CALL ENDED_ **


	4. January 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics represent a memory/past event/not present time

_"Hello, this is Marcus Kane. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message along with your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you, may we meet again."_

**_BEEP_ **

The cold winter wind nipped at Abby’s face as she sat in the town park. Her nose was red as were her cheeks. They felt as she did inside: numb.

Kids played in the snow further down the pathway. They built snowman, threw snowballs, made snow angels, and ran around in the snow. She watched as Bellamy picked up one of the kids and twirled her around in the air.

Abby shifted the phone against her ear to fix the hat she had on. It did well to warm her ears and ease the numbness outside, but it did nothing for the numbness inside. It had been two days since they laid Marcus to rest and the events were still fresh in her mind.

“You’d be proud of Bellamy,” Abby spoke into the phone.

She watched as the older man, 21 years old, swung his little sister, five years old, around. She could see the happiness radiating off the little girl. She was happy. It was the first time since the morning of the 24th, when they got the call, that Abby had seen anyone in the family happy. It spread a little warmth in the numbness she was drowning in.

“Besides stepping up and helping the family out, he handled the service at the funeral home really well,” Abby spoke.

The events were fresh in her mind, but they were also a blur. It seemed to be mesh of tears, hugs, well wishes, and memories. The part that stuck out in her mind the most was when Bellamy stepped up to speak on behalf of his father, Marcus.

Abby found Bellamy setting his little sister down and she ran away to play with the other kids. She could see the grin on his face, but the sad gleam that shone in his eyes stood out. Abby knew what the look meant. It reminded Bellamy of his younger years right when Marcus had adopted him and his twin sister, Octavia.

Abby continued, “I’m proud of him. The courage it must’ve taken to get up there, I can only imagine. I could barely hold myself together and he managed to only break down once up there.”

_The room where the service was being held was quiet as Bellamy made his way up to the stand. His first comment when he was settled behind it was, “My dad always gave me shit about how long my hair could get and how it’d always be messy.”_

_Low chuckles spread throughout the small group seated inside. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. It was cut shorter and combed down. A tear escaped his eye as he looked over to where Marcus laid in a closed casket. He whispered, “I cut it and styled it. Just for you, Dad.”_

_That single sentence had sent Abby into another silent sob. Clarke had to help ease her back down before Bellamy had continued his speech. He began off by telling the room how he had met Marcus._

_“As you all know, Marcus is-was the sheriff. He handled all kind of cases. For most cases, he’d receive it, solve it, and move on to the next. However, when he got O and I’s case, the familiar routine was thrown off course._

_“O and I were in a bad home situation. Our mother wasn’t fit to be a parent and it showed. Usually, when certain nights seemed bleak, they turned around and everything was fine. One night it didn’t turn around, and that night was the one Marcus showed up.”_

_The room had fallen quiet as Bellamy spoke. Many had heard the story behind the reasoning of Marcus adopting the Blakes, but it wasn’t spoke about often. Abby could see the tears shining in his eyes from where she sat in the front row._

_He continued, “I was so scared that night. We were only five years old when we saw our mother murdered. Not only did we have to witness that horror, we were then held hostage as the killer was trapped in our house.”_

_The silence in the room had amplified; it was deafening. Bellamy let out a shaky sigh as he looked back to the casket. “Marcus risked his life to save ours. When he got inside and got to me, the guy had Octavia. I didn’t think she’d make it out alive; Marcus thought otherwise.”_

_Abby had looked over to where Octavia sat in the front row. She was silently crying, watching her brother, pride and sorrow shining in her eyes. “He told me to have hope,” Bellamy said. “He told me that there’s one way we get through this and that it’s together.”_

_Those words had wrecked Abby into a small, silent sob. Marcus had always said those words. **Hope. We’re in this together**._

_“And we did it. Somehow, together, we got the guy knocked out and Octavia was safe. I remember that day so vividly, not only because of the horrors that occurred, but because of the heroism Marcus portrayed. When Octavia was sobbing in my arms and I watched as Marcus called in back up, I knew I wanted to be like him in the future,” Bellamy finished the story._

_The room grew quiet after, a few sniffles being heard in the crowd. He paused for a while, letting his story soak in. He continued shortly after, “I looked up to him after the moment. I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I was given the opportunity when Marcus adopted us.”_

_Bellamy offered a small smile. “Not only did he save our lives then,” he said, “he saved us from going into an orphanage. He gave us a family, a second chance. It was everything I could’ve asked for me and my sister.”_

_His voice cracked on the last few words as he gripped the edges of the stand. He looked to Abby and managed through a strained voice, “That’s why it’s so unfair.”_

_Abby saw his shoulders start to shake as well as his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, looking down. Visibly, he was trying to calm himself down. The tears were flowing steadily down his face. Even after trying, his voice still cracked as he broke down into a sob, “He saved two little five year old lives and gave them a father they never had. Now, his own little five year old daughter won’t get to grow up with the father she deserved.”_

_His sob wrecked through the silence in the room. Other sobs soon followed, one coming from Abby. Next to her sat their five year old daughter, Hope. Hope was watching her older brother, confusion and sadness on her face. She had known Dad was not coming home, that he was gone._

Back in the park, Abby watched as Bellamy watched after Hope. She was making snow angels with her school friends. Abby knew the sadness in his eyes was related to his speech at the service. Abby spoke, “It took great courage getting up there and sharing such personal feelings and memories with so many people.”

_Bellamy wiped the tears from his eyes and looked to where Abby and Hope sat. Abby was now holding Hope’s hand. Bellamy’s eyes flickered between them before settling on Abby. “Even though he’s not here physically, I know he is here in spirit. He may not be present here to see Hope grow up, but I know for a fact that he’s still going to be with her for everything she goes through. I also know that my family and I will make sure that she knows her dad will be proud of her, no matter what she does.”_

_Abby had tears streaming down her cheeks again as Hope watched her, frowning. Bellamy cleared his throat, fixing his tie. “It may be hard at times. It may seem like there is no turning point and that the end is near, but that isn’t the case. Marcus taught us to have hope and we will. More importantly, we’re going to get through his rough time, but not alone. As Dad always said, **we’re in this together**.”_

Bellamy was now making his way back over to where Abby was seated on the park bench. Abby watched him saying, “He told them what a hero you were. He told them about how you changed his life for the better and how you gave him hope; how you gave us all hope.”

The winter wind was picking up, making Abby’s nose and cheeks sting. It would be time to go back home soon; back to the house that was suffering in somber feelings everywhere you walked. “But this time…I can’t find it. I can’t find hope.”

The words broke her heart to say. Marcus would’ve looked at her and told her that there was always hope and that hope was everything. He would add that she always says that, which Abby would return with a pointed look. Abby always had hope, but now she just felt numb.

“I feel…numb. Empty. I see anything of yours and all it does is bring up memories. They become overwhelming and I just break down. I’ll lay down on the bed and think too much.”

Her hand was shaking again and not from the cold. She whispered, “I think of how Bellamy said it’s not fair. It’s not. You should be here, with me. With Hope.”

Her eyes drifted towards where her daughter was running towards Bellamy, failing to hide a snowball behind her back. Bellamy went along with it, letting her hit him in the chest. He acted as if he was really hit and fell the floor making her laugh.

The image in front of her suddenly changed. Marcus now appeared in the park. He seemed to be creeping up behind Hope. Bellamy’s acting was now being used a distraction to keep Hope from looking behind her. It worked as Marcus scooped Hope up in his arms, twirling her around as she let out a loud squeal.

Abby didn’t notice the tears going down her cheeks until she blinked away the fantasy. Marcus wasn’t there. Hope was where she was, standing on the ground, throwing snow at Bellamy. Marcus was nowhere in sight.

The reality of the situation made her heart heavy. Without Marcus, was it really, ‘we’re in this together’?

**_CALL ENDED_ **


	5. February 8

_"Hello, this is Marcus Kane. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message along with your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you, may we meet again."_

**_BEEP_ **

The beep set off a ringing in her ear. She used her free hand to massage her right temple, eyes squeezing shut in pain.

Everything hurt.

Her head was pounding, her back was sore, and every limb on her body ached.

“I can only imagine the pain you were in,” she whispered into the phone.

She sat on her bed, on her side, as she slowly took her shoes off. Every moment was slow; every movement hurt.

“If this is the pain I’m feeling…I can’t imagine yours.”

It was hard to concentrate on her thoughts. Every second her head would pound, sending a pulse of pain radiating through her skull.

“The car is fine besides the back bumper. That fell off completely.” She could see in her mind Marcus having a mini heart attack about the car being scratched. If there was anything Abby would guess rivaled his love for their family, it would be his love for their cars.

The small memory made her smile.

The smile soon faded as another jolt of pain raced through her mind and body. She froze up, trying to get it to subside. The drugs hadn’t kicked in yet.

“I wasn’t flung around in the car but I was jerked about,” she said as she moved to remove her jacket. Her elbow popped and pain shot up her arm. She let out a little yelp and froze in place. A single tear ran down her cheek.

She sat like that for a while. Her head continued to throb as she closed her eyes, telling her mind and body to calm down. Her heart was racing in her chest. She counted down in her head until she felt her body relax.

She finished getting the jacket off slowly after she let out a shaky sigh. Setting it off to the side, she clutched the phone tighter to her ear. “What I’m trying to say is…”

Those two words froze on her lips. They sat there, waiting to be said. Her hand holding the phone began to shake again.

“Damn it,” she swore under her breath as she wiped fresh tears from her eyes.

She hated that she was crying again. She hated that when she thought of those two words it sent her heart racing. She hated that when she was starting to make small steps into the reality of her new life, those two words would ruin any progress she was making.

Two words. That’s all it took to tear her back down.

Two words. That’s all it took to trigger a memory.

_Snow was falling at a good pace around her car as she waited at a red light. She had been anxious driving in the snow ever since **that** night. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles as white as the snow._

_The light had turned green but she waited an extra second just in case. She looked to both sides of the intersection before going forward. Soon, screeching tires could be heard. That extra second wasn’t enough._

_Her foot somehow instinctively slammed on the gas, launching her car forward. The screeching tires got closer and Abby squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. The screeching tires were replaced with metal crashing into metal._

_Abby’s body jerked in her seat, the air bag deploying as her car spun from being hit on the backside. Instantly, she was seeing stars. Her ears began to ring, the noises of the crash blurring together into a muffle._

_Then she felt nothing. It was like someone had gathered all the pain and crushed it into nothing. She felt the air bag deflate and fall away from her face. She went to move it but she was frozen in place._

_It was like she couldn’t move her arms. She tried to move her legs but they were also frozen in place. She felt detached from her body. She felt like she was watching herself struggle._

_Then like a lightning bolt, pain surged through her back, zapping her back into reality. Her heart began to beat faster, panic rising in her. One word, one name, raced through her mind on repeat._

_She fumbled with the airbag feeling like the car was closing in on her. When that was out of the way, she tried to find her seat belt buckle. Pain surged through every limb she moved, tears poured down her cheeks. She ripped the seat belt away from her and scrambled to unlock her door._

_She threw the door open, almost hitting a pedestrian who had come over to help her. She dove out of the car hitting the pavement. She barely registered the pain in her palms from being scratched up as she crawled away from the car._

_She didn’t stop until someone stopped her from going into traffic. When they helped her sit down on the sidewalk out of harm’s way, she felt the pain all over her body. That one name, **his** name, flashed in her mind as she watched the scene._

_She suddenly felt ill and the panic rushed back into her. She burst into tears and a sob as **that** night flooded her mind. Those around her tried to calm her down but she couldn’t hear them._

_Her mind was focused on the car, more specifically on the spot where she sat- the sport where **he** sat **that** night. All she could see in her racing mind was **him** lying there, lifeless. It broke her._

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. She tried all her calming practices she used on her patients, but none of them helped her.

It was like before Marcus had passed.

Abby would get worked up over something and none of the tricks would calm her down. When Marcus would get home that day, he would notice how wound up she was. He would, without question, rub the tension out from her shoulders and neck. Instantly, she would calm down.

Unconsciously, her free hand reached up and rested on her right shoulder. Her shoulders were one of the more sore parts of her body. Her neck was stiff.

“I could use one of those massages right now,” she confessed.

Her eyes closed as she remembered the way his hands felt on her shoulders. Rough, calloused hands would skim over her shoulders. They’d knead away the knots and worry. They’d slowly erase the tension from her shoulders and move onto the neck. There they would repeat the same gestures until Abby felt completely relaxed.

After that, he would wrap his arms around her and hold her close. He would stroke her hair, let it fall through his fingers. He’d re-massage her shoulders lightly to make sure she stayed relaxed. Just after five minutes of sitting in that position she would fall asleep in his arms.

Opening her eyes, Abby felt at ease. She felt her heartbeat return to its normal pace. She felt her body involuntarily relax from its tense position. She noticed her hands weren’t shaking anymore.

It amazed her. Those two words would trigger a memory which caused panic and anxiety. A memory with the same person that was in that one memory that caused the anxiety was calming her down.

She wrapped her arm around herself. She closed her eyes as she sat in silence for a while. She thought of his arms around her, her head on his chest. She focused on his smell and the warmth that radiated off him. She focused on the protectiveness he offered.

“Car crash,” she abruptly said, “I got in a car crash.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, tensing up. She waited for it to come. She waited for the wave of panic that would wash over her until she felt like she was drowning. She waited for it suffocate her and send her heart racing. She waited for her hands to tremble. She waited for her mind to shift into overdrive.

But it never happened.

She slowly opened her eyes. She looked down to her hand. It was still. She put it over her heart. Its rhythm stayed normal. She put her hand on her temple. No thoughts were racing through her mind. The only thought on her mind was her being wrapped up in Marcus’ embrace.

A small smile graced her lips. Without a thought, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Almost involuntarily, her eyes shifted up to look at the ceiling. The smile stayed intact to her lips as a single tear found its way down her cheek.

Maybe, just maybe, Marcus was still looking out for her.

**_CALL ENDED_ **


	6. February 14

_"Hello, this is Marcus Kane. Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message along with your name, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you, may we meet again."_

**_BEEP_ **

Abby twirled a rose between her fingers. The scent of a dozen of them filled her senses, making her temporarily forget about the world. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling.

There wasn’t many days where Abby felt completely relaxed. She didn’t feel rigid, she didn’t feel the weight of the world on her shoulders.

It was odd. On a day like today, she figured she’d be drowning in her sorrow. Today was a holiday where loved ones expressed their love for each other. Today was a day for couples: Valentine’s Day.

If Abby was being honest, the day didn’t start too well. She hadn’t slept well the night before, knowing exactly what day she was waking up to. She was also dreading a long shift she had taken at work to keep her mind off the day. However, half way through the day, there was a knock on her office door.

_When she had opened the door, a man in a way too familiar outfit stood there with a way too familiar bouquet. Abby was left speechless._

_The man left the bouquet of roses with her and quietly left. She was glued to her spot by the door as she stared down at the card in the bouquet. It read in neatly written cursive words:_

**_To Abby Kane, my beloved wife and best friend_ **   
**_Here’s to ten years_ **   
**_I love you, happy valentine’s day_ **   
**_Love,_ **   
**_Marcus_ **

_Her eyes stayed glued on the note card until a co-worker stopped in front of her office. “Dr. Kane?” She snapped out of her trance and offered a tight smile, disappearing into her office once again._

_She could feel herself starting to panic, the itching feeling crawling its way across her skin. Her grip on the roses began to shake and she felt her heart begin to race. When she closed her eyes in anticipation of a wave of panic, she felt a rush of relaxation wash over her instead._

_Her hands soon calmed down and her heart rate returned to normal. The panic that was crawling across her skin evaporated away. The haze in her mind faded from the initial panic and she saw in her mind the one man who could make her at ease._

_She felt warm all over. She felt as if there was a protective shield around her. In her mind, the protective shield was a pair of arms wrapping around her. Fingers skimmed lightly over her arms, making the panic disappear. A soothing voice in her ear calmed her body down._

_When she opened her eyes, she felt at ease. She smiled to herself, silently thanking one man for being her safe haven._

Now, she sat at her desk with the bouquet of roses.

“Your bouquet came in,” she started off.

Marcus had always ordered flowers for delivery to the hospital on Valentine’s Day. She never knew how early in advance he would set up the order. As she smelt another rose, she felt happiness spread throughout her.

“I don’t know how early you put the order in,” she laughed a bit, “but I’m thinking at least two months in advance.”

A little memory flashed in her mind and she couldn’t help the small smile that found its way onto her lips. She asked, “Making sure to not repeat Valentine’s Day five years ago?”

_Abby sat at her desk just like every other Valentine’s Day. She was going over surgical notes on an emergency surgery she had to perform in trauma. She was a bit exhausted, it had taken four hours. Now, she was behind schedule for her daily routine._

_She was checking the last page when she heard a crash from outside her office. She froze in her chair, looking to the closed door._

_“Sir! You can’t go back there!”_

_“It’s an emergency!”_

_Abby’s grip on the paperwork in front of her tightened. She recognized that voice. It sounded urgent and worried. Scenarios began to race through her mind: Clarke was hurt, Bellamy got suspended from school, Octavia pranked another teacher and this time was her last warning, or something happened with Hope at her babysitters._

_She immediately sprung up from her office chair as she heard the security guard saying, “Sir, I’m sure it can wait so we can-”_

_“But it can’t!”_

_She threw the door open, almost hitting a cop who was running down the hall. He, a very familiar cop, stumbled back before it could hit his face. He froze in place and peeked around the door. A grin spread across his face as he said, “Abby!”_

_Abby made eye contact with Marcus, getting straight to the point by asking, “What’s the emergency? Is it Clarke? Is she okay?”_

_Marcus opened his mouth to speak but Abby kept rambling off questions. “Is it Bellamy again? Did he beat up that John Murphy again? Did the kid deserve it again?”_

_“Well-”_

_“Oh God, don’t tell me it was Octavia. Principal Jaha still has his beard intact, right?”_

_“Well no, it’s not Octavia, it’s-”_

_“Is it Hope? Do I need to call Harper and Monroe? Why didn’t they call me in the first place? Not that I don’t trust them, of course, but they do know that right? To call me if there’s an emergency?”_

_“Abby-”_

_She had her hands in her hair and pulled at it. “I don’t know which is worse! They’re all bad scenarios! What if it’s **all** of them?! We need to-”_

_A bouquet of roses were shoved in her face, cutting her rant short. She blinked in confusion as her eyes landed on it. “Roses?” she questioned._

_“Yes,” Marcus answered, “and chocolate.”_

_She looked up to him and her eyes drifted down to the box of chocolate in his other hand. She slowly took them, confusion written all over her face. “What are these for?”_

_He grinned. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”_

_She fell silent as she looked back up to him, her husband. Realization of the situation dawned on her and she blushed a little bit in embarrassment. When she saw his grin, she got a little mad and whacked him with the bouquet._

_“Hey! Don’t break them!”_

_“You gave me a heart attack, Marcus!” **Whack.**_

_“Abby! I got those for you!”_

_“I thought something serious had happened!” **Whack**. “Don’t you know not to yell emergency in a hospital!” **Whack**._

_He grabbed the roses and yanked them from her grip. He inspected them while saying, “I agree with you on that part but it **was** an emergency.”_

_She glared at him, watching as he grinned, learning that the roses weren’t ruined. She asked, “And what was that emergency?”_

_He stated as if it were obvious, “That you got your Valentine’s Day gift.” He leaned the bouquet back towards her, winking as he told her, “You can have these back if you promise not to hit me with them again.”_

_She mumbled as she nodded and swiped them from his grip, “I’d like to do more than whack you with them.”_

_“What was that? Can you say that a little louder?”_

_She sent him another glare, which he returned with another bright grin. He explained, “I usually order you flowers in advance and have them sent here. When I went to the flower shop to know your reaction and how it went, he told me that I hadn’t placed an order.”_

_Despite his childish display, Abby had to admit the roses smelled nice and looked beautiful. She was secretly grateful he grabbed them before she could ruin them. She would never admit that though._

_“I felt guilty because I was sure you had noticed your flowers hadn’t come in yet and you maybe thought I had forgotten. I just wanted to make sure that you knew I hadn’t,” he finished his explanation._

_She couldn’t help the small smile that formed on her lips. “I had an emergency surgery four hours ago, so I wasn’t even in my office at the regular time. After, I was so exhausted I hadn’t even noticed there weren’t any flowers. Hell, I forgot it was even Valentine’s Day until you said it.”_

_His grin only broadened and he pulled her to him. Resting his forehead on hers, he asked, “So am I forgiven?”_

_She looked into his eyes, happiness swelling up in her. “Maybe,” she answered as she tilted her head up to kiss him._

Abby could feel the smile on her face, small tears dripping down her cheeks at the memory. They weren’t sorrow filled tears, more nostalgic. She was sad he wasn’t here to celebrate Valentine’s Day anymore but she still had the memories to reflect on.

“You wouldn’t have been able to run in here this time,” she joked, “screaming and running like a chicken with its head cut off.”

She replaced the one rose and took out another. She sniffed that one, memories of that kiss floating through her mind. His grinning lips against hers, providing her with the love he had for her. It was sweet, tender, and soft. It made her happy.

She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. It was one of the few moments since _that_ night where she felt truly happy. She missed it.

She pulled the rose from her nose, eyeing it as she opened her eyes. The roses were like the car crash. It signaled another bad memory, one that signaled the panic attack that wanted to consume her but it didn’t. Just like before, she found her safe haven in Marcus’ arms. Then, she overcame it.

Like the car crash, she felt like he was still watching out for her.

“Thank you,” she told him as she placed it back in the bouquet. “Not just for the roses, but for everything. Somehow, even though you’re not here, you’re the one getting me through this.”

On her desk was a framed picture of her and Marcus on their honeymoon. They stood on a beach in Hawaii. The sun was setting in the background. Their hands were intertwined, foreheads touching, and smiles intact.

She reached over and picked it up in her free hand. She stared at the picture, taking it in. She slowly ran her thumb over his figure in the picture. One tear made its way down her cheek and onto the frame. “I miss you,” she admitted in a whisper.

Abby didn’t talk to anyone about her feelings concerning his death. She never told anyone how empty she felt. She never told anyone about the late nights she spent silently crying. She never told anyone about the constant panic attacks.

She didn’t want to worry the kids or her close friends. They too had felt the impact of Marcus’ death. She didn’t want them to have the burden of making sure she was okay on top of their own grief.

She smiled a bit, thinking of the picture and the progress of taking it. Bellamy and Octavia wouldn’t stop trying to photobomb it so Clarke had tossed Bellamy to the ground, sitting on him to keep him down. Octavia was too busy laughing at red-faced Bellamy to try and photobomb on her own.

All of them were eleven at the time, 21 now. They had grown up so much since then. Abby knew Marcus would be proud of them. She set the picture back down as she wiped the one tear’s streak off her cheek.

“Come on, Hope. Mommy’s office is this way.”

Abby looked to her office door, recognizing Bellamy’s voice. She set the phone down and quickly rubbed her eyes and cheeks. The door opened a few seconds later, revealing Hope and Bellamy.

Hope was wearing her big coat, snow boots, and her backpack. “Mommy!” she yelled and ran over.

Abby smiled, joy surging into her heart. She picked up Hope, hugging her close as the little girl’s arms wrapped around her neck. For a moment, with her eyes closed, Abby lost herself in the hug.

This little girl made her heart swell. She was so full of love for everything and anything. She was just like her father.

As they detached from their hug, Hope sat on Abby’s lap. “How was school?” Abby asked her as she brushed hair from her eyes.

“Fun! We made cards!” she responded, digging around in her coat pocket. She pulled out a crooked shaped heart and held it out to Abby.

“For me?” Abby asked and Hope nodded. Abby took it and saw the front of the heart had a flower drawn on it. She opened it and written inside was _Happy Valentine’s Day Mommy! Love Hope._ The first ‘n’ in Valentine’s was squeezed in between the ‘e’ and ‘t’ as if it was forgotten at first. Smaller, drawn hearts adorned the empty space in the card. Those hearts were then traced in red glitter.

Abby smiled, feeling a tightening in her chest. She kissed Hope’s forehead and told her, “Thank you sweetie, Mommy loves it.”

“Bellamy helped me!” she grinned up to the boy who was still by the door.

Abby looked over to him as he smiled down to them. “I can see that,” she said as she noticed the red glitter in his hair. “Did you two make a mess?”

“I didn’t,” Hope pointed at her brother, “he did!”

“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t tell!” Bellamy said as he laughed and made his way over to them. He sat in the chair next to Abby’s desk and reached over, messing Hope’s hair up. He earned a high pitch squeal and a burst of laughter from her.

Abby felt her chest tighten again as she watched the two. She smiled again, more to herself as she observed the scene. It felt like an ordinary day. It felt like life was normal again. Abby knew better; however, it calmed her down.

“Those are pretty,” Hope suddenly spoke.

“Hm?”

“The flowers.”

Abby looked to where Hope was pointing and her eyes landed on the bouquet of roses. She smiled, looking back to Hope. “They are, aren’t they?”

Hope nodded and held her hand out. Abby took one from the bouquet and gave it to her. “Be careful,” she told her as she pointed at the thorns.

Hope just nodded and moved it around in her small hands, eyes glued to it. Abby watched her with a smile. After a few moments of silence, Abby told her, “They’re from daddy.”

“Daddy?” She looked over to her mother, confusion adoring her face. Abby nodded and Hope asked, “How?”

Abby didn’t have an answer right away. She looked over to Bellamy, who seemed interested in knowing her answer as well. She looked to bouquet, then the ceiling, then back to Hope. “Your daddy was always thinking of us. Somehow he knew we would need flowers on this day.”

Hope smiled and hugged her rose closer to her. “Daddy’s always right!” she exclaimed as she spun the rose in circles.

Bellamy and Abby laughed. “You’re right,” Abby agreed. “Why don’t you thank him?”

Hope and Bellamy both looked confused at Abby’s suggestion. Abby turned towards her desk where her phone still sat. The voicemail call was still on-going.

Picking up the phone, Abby turned back to Hope, showing it to her. “I’ve been leaving your daddy messages the past few nights. He gets these messages up in heaven.”

Hope stared at the phone, watching the timer tick up as it recorded their conversation. “Daddy can hear me?” she asked.

Abby nodded. “He will once we end the call.”

Hope smiled and yelled into the phone, “Thank you daddy! The flowers are very pretty.”

Abby smiled, feeling proud of Hope. It was a tough situation for all of them; however, it was slightly different for Hope. Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia, and Abby would all remember Marcus vividly. Hope was only five years old. Memories didn’t begin to form until around four or five. She would grow up without really knowing Marcus except the stories she would be told and the memories she would retain.

Even through all this, even if Hope didn’t know that, the love she still showed for her late father warmed Abby’s heart. Out of the corner of her eye, Abby also saw a small, happy smile form on Bellamy’s lips. When they made eye contact, Abby knew he was thinking along the same lines.

“Alright sport, let’s get going. I’m sure Mom has a busy schedule,” Bellamy said as he stood up.

“Okay!” Hope replied and gave the rose back. As Abby was putting it back in the bouquet, Hope kissed her cheek and said, “Bye mommy!” She turned to the phone adding, “Bye daddy!”

Abby’s grinned widened and she said, “Bye sweetheart, I’ll see you at home.”

Hope nodded and jumped from her lap and ran to Bellamy. He immediately grabbed onto her hand and she began to pull him to the door. Bellamy looked over his shoulder on the way out and offered Abby a small smile. Abby returned it as the door shut behind them.

Looking back to her phone, she set the Valentine’s Day card down by the roses. She examined the two for a few moments of silence. She laughed to herself a bit, another grin forming. It was such a Marcus thing to do. “Not only are you looking out for me,” she told him, “but you’re looking out for everyone.”

**_CALL ENDED_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This my first Kabby fic I've ever written. It's not really a flow blown out story, but I thought up this idea while listening to some music and figured I'd give it a shot!
> 
> Hopefully, you guys enjoy it! Feedback is appreciated, I wanna know how you guys feel about the story!
> 
> All the love,  
> lindsay :)


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